Dragonhart
by HazelHype
Summary: They were an ancient race, one that humans could never know about. But one breaks the rules. One that believes not all humans are pure evil. Boy, will she learn that the hard way. Tyrion/OC cuz there's not enough of those. Rated M cuz it's GoT
1. Prologue

**Dragonhart-An ancient race of dragon/human hybrids. Having the appearance of humans, they are considered cursed with dragon wings on their backs and a tail that extends their spines. Their sworn enemies are white walkers. They resemble humans at a young age with only, what look like, tattoos of their wings on their backs and their tail wrapped around their right leg until they hit puberty, then their wings and tail come out. After years of training, they can learn to hide their wings and tail as tattoos with magic. Dragonharts are very loyal to their clans, even to the extent of giving their lives for the clan's protection. Their skin is impenetrable. Nothing but old age or a broken heart can kill them.**

* * *

She was only four winters old when she met him. A gimpy little Dragonhart with a huge responsibility when she grew older. But her heart out-sized her height by miles. Wrapped in only a ragged tunic long enough to be dress on her with no back, revealing the lining of her future wings, she hid in the bushes as she watched the humans.

She saw him. The human who stole the woman's robes as she bathed in the river. He was rather small, but then again, so was she. She was the smallest Dragonhart of her clan. So she could easily slip away and explore the human world. But she had to be careful. As a youngling, her wings and tail had yet to grow out, so she was as defenseless as a lamb. But her curiosity of these humans was piqued.

The taller one was a female, significantly older than the other. The younger was male. But he was rather short. He was mesmerized by the female as she ran back to the fortress, naked and sobbing. As he watched, he was hidden behind bushes. At least he was well hidden. And there he stayed for almost half an hour.

Suddenly. A small mob of grown males came running from the castle, each yelling something that did not seem pleasant.

"Get back here, imp!"

"You disgraceful half-man!"

"We'll find you and end you!"

That was when the young human ran to the forest. And the Dragonhart silently followed. The boy ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. But he suddenly tripped on a root. He turned to see the mob getting closer. Just as he thought he was done for, an arm shot out of the bushes and grabbed his leg. He was then yanked into the bushes and a small hand covered his mouth. He saw it was a girl, a little bit younger than him. The mob stopped just in front of them, looking around for the youngest Lannister.

The little girl inhaled deeply before letting out a monstrous roar. The mob jumped and ran back to the castle, fearing the beast would chase after them if they weren't fast enough.

Once they were gone, she let the boy go. He struggled to get away from her. "What are you?" He demanded. She just cocked head to the side. She seemed rather simple-minded. But it was to be expected. Only the elders of the clan were aloud to speak. Everyone else had to use their telepathic abilities to communicate. When the boy realized that she wouldn't speak, he tried repeating the question more loudly. "WHAT. ARE. YOU?!"

~You don't need to yell, I can hear just fine.~ A voice echoed in his head. He fell back in shock, not sure what he heard. He looked at the the girl who just stared at him.

"Was that you?" He asked. When she nodded, he also asked, "How are you doing this?"

~Magic.~

The young boy did not know what to think of her. This girl was very strange. "Are you a witch?"

~No. Dragonhart.~ She answered as if it were the most obvious thing. ~What are you called?~

"Tyrion. Tyrion Lannister." The boy answered.

~What is a Tyrion Lannister?~ She asked.

"No, no. That's my name." He corrected.

~Oh, that makes more sense. Because if you weren't human, I wouldn't know what else you were.~

"Imp seems to be the my company's choice." Tyrion snickered. "What is your name?"

~Sunnulth.~ She answered. ~But my Papa calls me Sunny.~

"What does your mother call you?"

Sunny seemed to sadden before answeing, ~I don't have a mother. She died laying my egg.~

"Egg?" Tyrion asked.

Sunny turned around to show Tyrion her back. The lining of her wings startled him as she explained. ~We're not human. Our kind lays eggs. From what my Gran has said, we descended from dragons.~

"How is that possible?" Tyrion asked.

~According to our legend, Blackfang the Venomous was the most feared dragon to ever exist. But in his gain of power, he grew lonely.

~For a sacrifice to appease him, the humans offered a young girl to him. Instead of killing her, he raised her. When she grew up, she became a beautiful woman. Blackfang wanted to keep her for himself, but because he grew to love her, he couldn't bare to keep her as his prisoner. So, he set her free.

~Years had passed before the young woman had realized that she fell in love with Blackfang. He had always been kind to her and gave her the greatest gift she ever received. And she wanted give back to him. So one day, she returned to find Blackfang lonely and miserable. But when he saw her, his old heart grew so warm that it felt hotter than his own dragon fire.

~The woman told Blackfang that she loved him and wanted to be with him forever. Those words unlocked an ancient magic within him that made him human.~

"Human?"

~Well, as human as a dragon can become. His body shrank in the shape of a human and most of his scales melted away. Some remained on his shoulders, elbows, knees, shins, even along the bridge of his nose, those features have been passed to us. But he changed for her so they could be together. The years passed, they had many children. But the only true dragon features he could never give up were his wings and his tail. For you see, a dragon who can't fly can't truly live.~

"What is so great about flying?"

~If you think you're small now, just wait till you see the world from the sky, it's magnificent.~

"You said that Blackfang gave the girl the greatest gift ever. What was that gift?"

~Freedom.~

Suddenly, Tyrion's brother was heard. "Tyrion, where are you!?" He shouted.

"My brother." Tyrion grumbled. "When can I see you again?"

~Soon, I hope. But make sure you're not being chased next time.~ And with that, Sunny scampered off into the woods.

Tyrion stood and walked to his brother. "I'm here, Jaime."

"Where have you been?"

"Just walking."

* * *

~And where have you been?~ A grown Dragonhart asked Sunny.

~Exploring, Papa." She answered.

~Just be grateful I found you and not your grandfather. He been in a mood today.~

~He's always in a mood, Papa.~

~Well, today is an even worse one. He wants to send you younglings to the Isles earlier than planned.~

~But aren't we too young?~

~Yes, which is concerning to the rest of us. I just hope he sees reason before risking all of you to the Isles.~

* * *

Hours later, Chief Elder Ashenner, Sunny's grandfather, assembled the whole clan. "We have to send the younglings to the Isles early. It's the only way for them to learn." He spoke. Some the grown Dragonharts started shouting random things.

~They're too young!~

~They won't survive!~

~It's too dangerous!~

~They won't last a week's time!~

"We need to do this. The humans grow bolder and come closer to our land everyday. Would you rather our young face the humans or the Isles? At least, on the Isles, they'll either live or die. If human got their hands on them, they would be tortured, enslaved, raped. I'd rather them die quickly on the Isles than live among the humans. And those who survive the Isles will be part of our army. We must do this for not only them, but for us."

There were still murmurs amongst the clan. Finally, Tartoran, Sunny's father, stood. "What if they all die on the Isles? Then what, Ashenner?" He spoke. Many in the clan gasped. Anyone who spoke with their voice to the Chief could only do so in desperate need. "We cannot start a war with humans. The years have made them evolve from primitive beasts. If you send our young away, that won't stop the humans. Put our young on those Isles and not only will they die, but so will we."

"It is our only chance to over power the humans!" Ashenner roared.

"But it could also end us!" Tartoran roared back.

It became a roaring match to see if one could roar louder than the other. It ended when a small voice made a roar of its own. "STOP!" Everyone turned see the source of the voice was little Sunny. "Stop fighting! I've already lost Mama. I don't want to lose either of you." She sobbed so loudly that everyone gave silent sympathy. "Don't send all of us to the Isles, only half. If some of us live, send the rest and we'll teach them what we've learned. Just please stop fighting."

Both males looked at each other, surprised by the youngling's proposal. Ashenner sighed as he approached Sunny. "Young one, you show such wisdom that surpasses even myself. We agree to your words." Sunny was surprised to hear this. "We send the older half to the Isles at dawn." And with that, everyone dispersed.

* * *

Sunny knew that she had to be quick. The boat left at dawn's light and she was to board it with half of the rookery. But she wanted to tell Tyrion first. She was quick and silent as she crawled up rhe waal of the castle. She didn't want the guards to see her.

Once over, she sniffed the air to catch her knew friend's scent, following it to a window. She scaled the wall with ease and made it to the window. ~Tyrion.~

The imp of a boy startled awake. But he saw the young Dragonhart at his window. "Sunny? Why are you here?"

~I can't stay long. My grandfather is having half the young to the Isles tomorrow.~ she said.

"Are you going, too?"

~Believe me, I wish there were other options.~

"Why must you go?"

~My grandfather is the leader of our clan. If I am to take his place one day, I must survive the Isles for the next twenty years. It's the only way to prove not only my strength, but my loyalty to my clan.~

Tyrion was silent for a moment before asking, "Will I see you again?"

Sunny reached for her shoulder and removed one of her scales. Gazing at it, she smiled. ~My kind exchanges scales to show who we trust.~ She then handed the scale to him. ~If you keep this close, I'll be able yo find you when I return. Until then, keep it close.~ she then climbed out of Tyrion's window and crawled down the tower.

Tyrion fingered the scale and smiled. What would his brother think of this?

* * *

Dawn. Tartoran dreaded that sunrise. He couldn't bear to send his daughter off. But it had to be done.

The elder half of the rookery clutch were loaded onto the boats. The adults who sailed them were uneasy. Some of them had young that were going, as well.

Once the set sail, most of the young were sobbing, no doubt missing their families. But Sunny did her best to keep a brave face. Standing at the bow of the boat, she stared on, waiting. Just waiting for a sign of the Isles, their new home for the next twenty years.


	2. Twenty Years

**Dragonhart - An ancient race of dragon/human hybrids. Having the appearance of humans, they are considered cursed with dragon wings on their backs and a tail that extends their spines. Their sworn enemies are white walkers. They resemble humans at a young age with only, what look like, tattoos of their wings on their backs and their tail wrapped around their right leg until they hit puberty, then their wings and tail come out. After years of training, they can learn to hide their wings and tail as tattoos with magic. Dragonharts are very loyal to their clans, even to the extent of giving their lives for the clan's protection. Their skin is impenetrable. Nothing but old age or a broken heart can kill them.**

* * *

Ten winters had passed. Tyrion was now seventeen. He still held onto the dark gray scale Sunny had given him. His thoughts often drifted to her, wondering if she remembered him. Some of his more recent thoughts had been about if she had matured into a lovely, young woman. But he would never know. Not for now, at least.

* * *

She ran. Chasing her prey. It was weak. So weak. She was very much capable of finishing off her prey very quickly, but where was the fun in that? Her prey was very clumsy and had no sense of direction, and every choice it made was based on fear. It tried to out maneuver her, but she was too smart for that. She jumped and landed on her prey, a very young Dragonhart. The youngling cried in terror, not sure what to do.

Sunny then stood up and offered the youngling her hand. The youngling took her hand, knowing he was in trouble. "What have I told you about wandering off at night?"

"Not to." He answered pitifully.

"Yes. The rules are set for a reason, Arken. And believe me, it's better that I found you instead of the White Walkers."

"Are there actually White Walkers on the Isles?" Arken asked.

Sunny chuckled. "Yes. And they love to eat Dragonharts." She then ducked down whisper in his ear. "It's there favorite." She giggled, knowing the White Walkers weren't really there. But Arken didn't know that. "Now, let's get you back to the village."

The walk back was quiet, which gave Sunny room to think. She knew that Arken was lucky to have her and those remaining from the first drop off. Within the first week, over half of them died. They were too young to face the world on their own. The rest had learned to scavenge for food. A few had even found a spring for them to get water. After a few months, they had to learn how to build shelter. The managed to build huts from whatever resources they could find after storms. Whoever survived the first week of the Isles knew that they needed to have a leader, and since Sunny was in line to lead the next generation of Dragonharts, she was the natural choice.

Once back at the village, Sunny sent Arken to his hut and went to speak the few remaining from the first drop off. "Did you find him?" Kinta asked. Kinta was a few years younger than Sunny and was very frightened of the transition. But Sunny decided to be her unofficial sister and help her since day one. But a problem arose one day. When all the other Dragonharts sprouted their wings, Kinta's did not. Sunny told her that she was probably a late bloomer, but the years passing made it obvious that she would never grow her wings. And the day her dragon marks disappeared only confirmed it. But, instead of feeling pitiful, Kinta decided to hone in her skills as a ground fighter. She was the best one on the Isles because of this. So, istead of seeing this as a curse, she saw her having no wings as a gift.

"Yes. And I hope he understands soon enough not to wander off." Sunny said.

"These younglings are not like we were." Blaksit explained. Blaksit was a year older than Sunny, but was very loyal to her. He knew that he'd never have the patience Sunny had for ruling. "They are very perceptive. Whereas we were foolish enough to believe anything."

"Even foolish enough to believe the White Walkers always snatch misbehaved younglings from under there mother's wing?" Sunny joked. The others laughed at her joke.

Suddenly, Blaksit asked, "What will we do when we go home?"

"I certainly miss my mother. I'll hug her and not let go till the sun rises." Kinta answered.

"I plan to hunt wild boar." Blaksit said. "I miss eating boar."

"There's boar on the Isles." Sunny said.

"Not like back home. These boars are so thin, they barely make a mouthful. But the ones back home can feed my family for a week." He explained. "What about you, Sunnulth?"

"I plan to see an old friend."

"Who is this friend?" Kinta asked.

"No one you need to concern yourselves with." She answered. "I just hope he hasn't forgotten me."

* * *

Back in the village, Ashenner received the latest report on the younglings. He cared not for all of them, just the survivors. It had been his plan to kill off the weak so the strong may live. But he had hoped his granddaughter had survived all these years. Hearing that she not only survived but became their leader was phenomenal. But with Tartoran still angry about the decision to take the younglings to the Isles early made the elder believe a conspiracy against him was at large. He had to kill Tartoran, but how?

"Any news about Sunny?" Tartoran suddenly asked as he barged into Ashenner's hut.

That was when Ashenner got an idea. He turned to Tartoran with a devastated look on his face. "I'm sorry, Tartoran. But she was killed."

The younger of the two froze, not knowing what to think. He then asked, "How?"

"There was a storm. The Lightning strike caught her hut on fire. She didn't escape. I'm sorry, son." Ashenner played on, letting fake tears fall from his eyes.

Tartoran fled. He couldn't believe his only child was dead. He ran straight to the end of their land, right at the cliff face. He cried so hard, only the far off thunder from a storm was louder than he. His chest constricted his heart, squeezing till it beat no longer. Tartoran's last thoughts were of his child and his mate, in hopes of being reunited with them in the next life.

* * *

 _ **NINE YEARS LATER**_

* * *

Something was not right. They had less than a year till the boats came, but why was there a feeling of dread in the air. Sunny knew something was wrong. She knew when the Dragonharts who flew above the Isles to make the reports did everything they could to not be seen by her. She had to talk to them. With the help of Blaksit and Kinta, she waited for the reporter to make his rounds. She then hid in her hut, so that her friends could catch him.

The reporter circled to Isles, trying to find Sunny. His search was so intense that he didn't notice a young Dragonhart following him. Blaksit silently followed the reporter until he was able to grab him. He wrapped his arms around the reporter's wings and pulled him down. Once they landed, Kinta ran up and tied him down. The reporter struggled until he saw Sunny walk up to him. He tried to find any means of escape, but with the future of the village walking cloaer made it obvious that he wouldn't be let go. He turned to Sunny and said, ~I've been sworn to never say a word.~

Sunny immediately knew this Dragonhart had a youngling on the Isles. She turned to Blaksit and said, "Bring Arken. And tell him we will be testing his father's loyalty." The reporter didn't understand this. But when he saw his son, he cried, being happy to see him still alive.

Arken stared at his father with anger. Sunny pulled a dagger out, letting sunlight glint off. The reporter saw this and gasped. ~You wouldn't!~

"You're right. I wouldn't." She then handed the dagger to Arken. "But he would." Arken took the tip of the dagger and let it slice a thin line across it chest, to the horror of his father.

~How?~ He asked.

"I have trained these younglings to do as I say, no matter the task. They show a fierce loyalty. How far can you handle this, I wonder?" Sunny said as Arken kept cutting his young body, scales not even close to hardening to protect his delicate skin.

Arken then broght the blade to his throat, bringing his father to his breaking point. "NO!" He roared. "I'll talk!" He exclaimed.

Sunny then ordered Blaksit to take Arken back to the village. She turned back to the reporter as said, "I know something is wrong. I've felt it for the past nine years. I want to know what happened."

"I'm sorry, child." He started. "But your grandfather...killed your father."

Sunny was frozen. Her mind went blank and she had no idea how to feel. But her body suddenly felt a freezing chill. Her stomach clenched. She felt as though she were about to vomit. Kinta walked up behind Sunny and placed her hands on her leader's shoulders, trying to bring back to reality. The moment Sunny looked up, she stared at the reporter. She reached, grabbing his throat and pulled him close. "Give Ashenner my message. I **will** return home soon. I **will** find him. And I **will** kill him. Even if I have to rip his black heart from his chest with my own claws." She let the reporter go and watched as Kinta untied him. He was very quick to leave once his wings were free.

The two female Dragonharts walked back to the village and went see Arken. Blaksit was cleaning the youngling's wounds. Sunny sat next to him and used her magic to heal the small cuts. Arken hugged Sunny, to which she hugged him back. Whe hug broke up, the village leader sent out to play with the other younglings.

Kinta looked at Sunny and asked, "What now?"

Sunny looked down at her hands before answering, "Prepare anyone who is willing. At dawn, we fly back to the Mainland. Be sure to warn them that they might not live afterwards."

"After what?" Blaksit asked.

"The war my grandfather started with me."

* * *

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